Nightmares
by doctordumbledore
Summary: There is a reason Sherlock does not sleep too often; John's not the only one who gets nightmares.


Since he had moved in with Sherlock, John's nightmares had becomes less frequent. Either because he was so exhausted from running around London chasing his flatmate that he fell into a deep sleep immediately or because the presence of said flatmate made him feel able to sleep soundly, he found he was eventually able to go weeks without having a nightmare. Whenever he did have a nightmare he would find himself wandering out into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. After a few times, he would be met in the living room by Sherlock holding a cup of tea out to him. Never knowing what to say, John would just take the mug and nod his thanks before sitting down on his armchair as Sherlock would sit opposite him, in case John wanted to talk. John never did but it was nice to know that Sherlock cared. Sherlock seemed to understand what his nightmares were about anyway; John guessed the nightmares of an ex-army doctor were not to hard to work out even if you were not the great Sherlock Holmes. When John had finished his tea, he would return to bed and Sherlock would return to, well whatever it was that Sherlock did when other people were sleeping. They would never speak of it in the morning but John was always incredibly grateful to Sherlock for his display of friendship.

"How do you know when I have a nightmare?" John asked Sherlock, one night after a particularly bad flashback from Afghanistan when the two were sitting opposite each other.

"Sometimes you cry out, other times I just sort of know. Occasionally I feel like you are having a nightmare and make tea but when I look in you have settled back to sleep" Sherlock answered. John nodded in reply before the two returned to their companionable silence while John finished his tea. He got up and made it most of the way to the door before he turned around to see that Sherlock had picked up his violin.

"Thank you for being there" John said quietly. He could swear that he heard Sherlock reply "Always" before the sound of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata began and lulled John back to a demonless sleep.

It had been about a week since their last case. Sherlock was impatient and had been calling Lestrade roughly twice a day to see if there were any new cases. It was times like this that John almost considered going out and staging some sort of murder just to get Sherlock on a case. Sherlock had been performing experiments releasing foul smells into the kitchen for days and this morning John had found out that somehow most of his socks had been part of that experiment. It was getting late and John got up from in front of the TV, which had previously been showing something Sherlock described as 'appalling' but had then sat down to watch the whole of. John headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water before he headed to bed

"You should really get some sleep, you know" he told Sherlock.

"Don't need to" Sherlock simply replied, picking up his violin.

"What happens if there is a crime and you are too tired to go chasing off after some villain with your fancy coat because you haven't slept for about a week?" John asked him.

"Highly unlikely" Sherlock said before starting to randomly pluck at the violin, signalling the end of their conversation.

Another week later and John was starting to become seriously worried about Sherlock. It had been about three days since Sherlock had even moved from the sofa, almost continuously playing the violin as even his experiments lost their appeal. The man still hadn't slept since he had crashed for about 24 hours after their last case and John was wondering whether slipping Sherlock sleeping tablets just to get the man to shut his eyes was acceptable. Considering the number of times Sherlock had drugged him, John didn't feel the guilt at the idea that perhaps he should have. However, he decided that the drugs option was only a last resort.

"Sherlock you really need to get some sleep" John told him, as he walked to the sofa Sherlock was still lying across.

"Don't need to John" Sherlock responded.

"Actually you really do. You've been awake almost constantly for about two weeks and I have no idea how you even still have your eyes open"

"Quite easily, don't need to sleep" Sherlock replied with an almost perfect impression of a petulant child.

"Sherlock just go to bed" John almost ordered.

"No"

"Why the hell not?" John said, becoming angry his friend for being so stubborn.

"I do not want to"

"What's wrong with sleeping?" John asked.

"You for one should know that sleep brings many problems" Sherlock replied.

"What?" John said, becoming quickly confused with Sherlock's cryptic answers.

"I meant that you especially should understand that sleeping is not just a thing that you do but that it can bring many problems back that you do not wish to have to think about" Whilst saying this Sherlock was refusing to meet John's eyes, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling above him.

"I'm sorry Sherlock but I don't understand"

"Never mind then John. Why don't you run along to bed?"

"No Sherlock; I want to understand what you meant" John subconsciously moved to stand in a slightly defensive stance.

"I meant nothing by it John" Sherlock told him, trying to get rid of John.

"Sherlock…" John started before being cut off by Sherlock's violin. John refused to move at all and continued to stare at Sherlock until he eventually placed his violin back down beside him. "Sherlock just talk to me" John said, his voice almost pleading.

"John, I really do not wish to talk about this and would rather you went to bed" Sherlock said with an incredibly harsh tone that John felt unable to press the topic and retreated to bed.

Later that night John woke up in a cold sweat. He shook his head to try and clear the thoughts of Afghanistan and those he had been unable to save as he tried to calm his breathing down. Then he pulled himself out of bed, in search of his calming cup of tea that he presumed would be waiting for him as always. When he entered the living room he was not greeted by a friendly cup of tea but the sight of Sherlock crashed out of the sofa. Grateful that the man was actually getting some sleep, even if it looked incredibly uncomfortable and Sherlock had probably just passed out from exhaustion instead of choosing to sleep, John went about the process of getting a cup of tea. Whilst the kettle was boiling and his cup was sitting ready on the counter, John turned back to Sherlock. Although his still half-asleep brain had not registered it at first John could now see that Sherlock was not sleeping peacefully and was trashing around in his sleep. As Sherlock began to cry out John hurriedly prepared the tea before going to kneel by Sherlock's side. It seemed that John's presence must have calmed Sherlock because he became motionless for a few moments before blinkingly opening his eyes. He looked up to see John besides holding a cup of tea out to him and looking concerned.

"John I'm sorry. Please return to your bed. I am fine" Sherlock said insistently. John couldn't understand why Sherlock was pushing him away and instead of following Sherlock's orders, he held out the cup of tea which, after a slight pause, Sherlock took gratefully from him. John continued to kneel beside the sofa as Sherlock sat up and began to drink the tea. John did not want to press Sherlock, having often been grateful himself when Sherlock did not question him about his nightmares. However, John did not feel that he could leave Sherlock after Sherlock's nightmares and was worried about him. He did not know whether Sherlock's apparent nightmares had occurred because of his lack of sleep or if there was something else. When Sherlock had finished the tea he placed the mug down on the floor beside the sofa and looked at John as if expecting and almost waiting for him to return to bed. When John did not, Sherlock half sighed before reaching for his violin which he had somehow had the presence of mind to place on the floor as he fell asleep, out of the reach of his thrashing limbs. John watched Sherlock pick up his violin and took it as an indication that John could speak to him and ask him a question.

"Sherlock are you okay?" John asked.

"Yes John, why would I not be?" Sherlock replied, nonchalantly.

"It's just that you seemed to be… having troubled dreams" John replied, unsure how to phrase his words to Sherlock.

"Now I am awake I am fine John. Really you should be heading back to bed as you have work in the morning, I believe. I am sorry if I woke you" Sherlock apologised.

"No I had a nightmare so I happened to walk past to the kitchen" John reassured him.

"Then I am sorry instead that I was not awake to meet you" Sherlock said, his eyes showing a slight hint of regret that he had somehow failed John.

"No it is not your fault. I was actually relieved to see you sleeping" John replied, trying to make Sherlock see that falling asleep was in no way his fault.

"Goodnight John"

"Do you… want to talk about it?" John asked, hesitantly, feeling bad for pushing Sherlock.

"About what? The nightmare? No thank you John. It was nothing" Sherlock replied, dismissively.

"It didn't appear to be nothing. You cried out a few times"

"As do you"

"Exactly and I would not described my nightmares as nothing"

"How would you describe them then?" Sherlock asked, intrigued.

"I don't know… horrible, terrifying, painful" John tried to put the pain and anguish into words.

"Then you will no doubt understand why I do not wish to talk about my own"

"I didn't know you had nightmares" John said, realising this was something he felt he should know about the man he had been sharing a flat with.

"I try not to" Sherlock said simply.

"How do you avoid them?" John asked; he himself had tried almost everything from medication to mediation but had not found anything that worked until living with Sherlock had seemed to lessen his nightmares greatly.

"I don't sleep. Or when I do it is directly after a case and then my brain is so exhausted that they do not occur" Sherlock told John.

"That's why you haven't slept for the last two weeks"

"Exactly" Sherlock replied, seeming slightly exasperated with their whole conversation.

"Are they that bad that you have to exhaust yourself to try and avoid them?" John asked, concerned if this was the case.

"Normally we have a case regularly enough that I do not get to this stage" Sherlock avoided the question.

"But… are they?"

"Yes" Sherlock said simply, "Undoubtedly". John did not know what to say; he felt bad for not knowing this about Sherlock and for trying to force the man to sleep earlier. He was grateful and understood where Sherlock's compassion came from when John was suffering from his own nightmares. John was still curious but felt he could not ask Sherlock anymore. "You want to know about them" Sherlock said. John could not tell whether this was Sherlock simply stating a fact that he had somehow read from John's face or if Sherlock asking him if he would mind listening to Sherlock talk about them.

"If you want to talk about them" John replied, to be safe.

"I can tell you do" Sherlock stated.

"You seemed to be in a lot of distress" John also stated.

"I have a lot of demons in my past who wish to haunt me" Sherlock replied. John picked up on Sherlock's use of the word 'who', suggesting that Sherlock was haunted by people. John, who was used to seeing the face of men who had died under his care, at least partly understood. John did not say anything in response, leaving the silence for Sherlock to tell him anything else he wanted to or for the two of them to return to the companionably silence they often shared before John returned to bed.

"There have been many people in my life who I have failed or who have failed me" Sherlock began. "It is curious that my nightmares always seem to take exactly the same line. It is as if my brain wishes to run through a timeline of these people. It always begins…" Sherlock paused, trying to muster the courage to share with John "there's always my father with his belt and telling me how much of a disappointment I am, yelling at me about how much of a failure I am. There's my only friend from school calling me a freak and all the other people who used to beat me up at school. There's the face of the victim of the first crime I never solved. There's the man who held me hostage whilst I investigated a murder and let myself be captured to lead the police to him. There's the victim of the second murder by the man I didn't get to in time to stop. There are all the other people I failed to save. Then the part that isn't memories because there are the bodies of the people I care about now, dead because I have failed to stop something happening. That's the only part that ever changed, just how I've failed to protect them. There's Lestrade and Mrs Hudson and even Mycroft. And of course you John. It's always like that. You'll be there having been shot or something because I was careless or dragged you off on some stupid chase across London or you were trying to help me or save me. In fact tonight was the first time I have ever woken up before the end of the nightmare. I think it because you were by my side. Thank you" Sherlock had been looking directly in front of him and refusing to make eye contact with John throughout but with those last words he looked at John, trying to hold back the tears that had sprung to eyes as he spoke. John did not know what to say so instead he chose to place his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, comfortingly, as tears began to run down Sherlock's face. John reached up to wipe away the tears.

"Thank you for telling me, for explaining it to me and for trusting me" John told him before adding "I think you need to get some sleep"

"John I thought I just explained…" Sherlock looked slightly hurt that John did not seem to have understood him.

"Yes you did and I understand. You said that my presence helped. You're coming to bed with me. You need to sleep Sherlock and I'll be there to watch over you".

The two of them headed upstairs to John's bedroom and settled comfortably. There was no awkwardness between them as Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder and John wrapped his arm around him. They both drifted off to sleep, knowing that if anything were to happen that the other was there for them. Neither of them had nightmares again that night.


End file.
